If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.

- George Washington

Sunday, 25 March 2012

The Rite Of Spring

First sunny Sunday of the the year: bike ride.

A few of us met in the cafe on the airfield and had a full English - always a good way to start any enterprise. (It's usually known round here as a Full Welsh Breakfast, but I can't see any difference from the standard variety. But it did the job: I wasn't hungry again until 6 pm.) Our Secretary was there, with her husband, on her Triumph Thruxton 900, and another member who was riding a Bonneville. The one I traded in against the Sprint last summer. Which had originally been owned, before me, by another Club member. It's all a bit incestuous, really. He likes it, though. He has shorter legs than I do, which may account for it.

We sat outside for a long time, drinking coffee and waiting for the mythical 'others' to turn up, but none did, so we decided to make it a short day. Basically, as it was nearly lunchtime by then, we went for a pint. Twenty miles away.

We spent a lot of time in the nadgery little roads between Pembroke and Tenby, along the coast. The views were spectacular, but it wasn't Sprint country at all. I was in first and second gear nearly all the way, and was constantly thinking about the amount of dust and gravel on the little-used roads, and what happened last time I rolled over some gravel on the Big Red One. It was a relief, after we had parted and gone our separate ways home, to get it on some main roads and let it rip, in a cautious and thoroughly legal way, of course. Sports and sports-tourer bikes belong on big roads. It's only at about 60 that the Sprint starts to make sense and get into its stride. Riding it on B-roads is like ploughing a field with a Derby winner - possible, but with a deep sense of wrongness.

I kinda wish I had taken the XT.


  1. Sunny weather and a big breakfast. A great excuse for a ride.

  2. I've been in those shoes before. A few miles of hilly gravel on the Concours has me questioning my own reason for being. Particularly when loaded with my wife and about a hundred pounds of gear - and I could have had the F650. Can't win em all.

    Behind Bars - Motorcycles and Life

  3. You know now why the mighty GS is so popular in Surrey!


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